"This fruit... it's gonna give me insane power."
Enel clutched the strange fruit, his eyes gleaming with hunger. Wingless and mocked relentlessly in Birka, he'd endured years of torment. He'd heard whispers of this enshrined relic—the key to Birka's endless prosperity. His original plan was straightforward: smash it, doom the island, and settle the score.
But now, with the fruit in his grasp, a fierce urge surged through him. It felt destined for him, like the key to his dominance.
"Eat it!"
Decision made, Enel bit down.
"Not so fast."
A crisp female voice cut through the air behind him. Before he could turn, the fruit vanished from his hand.
"Huh?"
Enel whipped around, his face twisting in shock as Gion materialized. "You?!"
He recognized her from the tense standoff with the so-called god's group. That's why he'd slipped in now, during the chaos.
"This is the Rumble-Rumble Fruit," Gion said evenly, eyeing him. "It lets you command lightning. But in your position? He won't hand it over. Maybe swap it for something weaker."
She studied him closely. A kid with potential to sync with Logia-level power? Worth watching. For now.
"That's my fruit! It belongs to Sky Island!"
Enel's gaze locked on the fruit, greed flaring brighter at the mention of lightning. His gut had been spot on—this was his ticket.
"What a shame."
Gion sighed. A soft gust swirled, and she vanished.
Enel's eyes widened, frozen. Blood sprayed from his neck in a crimson arc. He crumpled lifeless to the ground.
Gion wasn't fazed. He'd chosen poorly, and choices had consequences. With the prize secured, she'd leave no loose ends—not for Ross's sake. Toying with the powerless was his fun; wiping out threats was how she kept him safe.
---
Angel Island, in Conis's cozy home—now Ross's temporary base. Sunlight filtered through the windows, painting golden patterns on the wooden floor.
Conis sat at her desk, idly turning pages in a hefty tome, but her focus wandered. Her eyes kept stealing glances across the room, drawn like a moth to flame.
Ross lounged in a chair, casually skimming a draft manuscript. After three days together, Conis had warmed to him. He wasn't the monster she'd feared—not unless provoked. Mild-mannered, even, with striking looks that stirred something in her she couldn't shake.
Not everything was smooth, though. Nights were the worst. Ross and his crew got rowdy—noises drifting through the walls from different voices, keeping her tossing and turning. She could only imagine the chaos in his room.
Is that stuff really that fun?
"What're you daydreaming about?"
Ross glanced up from Sola's Sky Island management outline—the essentials for her role as Gan Fall's deputy—and caught Conis spacing out.
"Uh! Just... the book. It's so deep!" Conis blinked, feigning wide-eyed innocence.
Sola's plan was a dense roadmap of reforms, priorities, and logistics. To Conis, it might as well be ancient script. She couldn't make heads or tails of it, and even if she could, it'd bore her stiff.
Ross chuckled, shaking his head. "Done with it already? Play me something on the harp instead."
He'd never counted on her for brains or bureaucracy. Truth be told, it was her beauty that had hooked him. Management? She'd flunk out. But music? She shone there.
"Yay! You're the best, Lord Ross!"
Conis beamed, ditching the book and bounding to the harp in the corner. Reading those dry pages? Torture. Strumming tunes for him? Pure joy. She'd played for him daily lately, and his praise lit her up.
Her father, Pagaya, always dismissed it as "girl stuff." But Ross loved it!
Conis settled in, her face turning focused. Her fingers danced over the strings.
Plink... twang~
The harp's melody filled the room, soft and flowing like a gentle stream.
Ross leaned back, eyes half-closed, savoring the peace. No wonder pirate crews kept musicians aboard. At sea, with nothing but waves and boredom, a tune could turn drudgery into downtime. Humming along? Even better.
His ship was shaping up nicely, crew-wise. Gion handled swords. Zephyr fixed the hull and threw punches. Stella patched wounds. Sola charted courses and decoded lore.
Add a captain like him, and it was a proper outfit. Still, they needed more hands.
The notes swelled, then faded, lingering in the air like a sweet echo.
Conis peeked over, spotting Ross's relaxed smile. Her heart swelled—pride, warmth, something deeper. Someone getting her music? That was everything.
"If only it could last like this forever," she murmured, steadying herself before launching into another tune.
Unrealistic, sure. Ross needed her here to bridge Sky Island's old ways and new. She might be clueless on the big stuff, but for now, her presence kept folks calm. The island's future—and hers—hung on that fragile peace.
—
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